SHE CALLED THE police first. Wouldn’t give her name or mine, just put me on the phone. But I ain’t say a word. Couldn’t. They can’t make me talk or report what happened if I won’t even tell ’em what happened, they told JuJu once I gave her back her cell. The next day, one of Miss E’s friends came by the house. She old. Retired. Used to be a prison nurse or something like that. I sat there, listened, cried—but at least I ain’t stink. JuJu say I will if I stay out the tub that long again. It’s been two weeks. No bath. I just can’t. That lady told her why. “She’s putting up a barrier, keeping people at a distance, reclaiming her body, hiding in plain sight.” JuJu and her was in the kitchen, but I heard ’em. “This happens often when girls have been violated. Some girls put on enormous amounts of weight. Some dress in huge baggy clothes to appear less attractive, to keep unwanted attention away. Then there are girls like your sister, who may use their hygiene as sort of a weapon and a form of protection at the same time.”

What should she do? my sister asked her.

“Give her time.”